


Pressure 7: Defenses

by grey853



Series: Pressure [7]
Category: XF - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Child Abuse, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-01
Updated: 2013-07-01
Packaged: 2017-12-16 19:37:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/865810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/grey853
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite Walter's support, Mulder still has serious problems dealing with his abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure 7: Defenses

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being such a good supporter.

Title: Pressure 7: Defenses  
Author: Grey  
Fandom: XF  
Pairing: Mulder/Skinner  
Rating: NC-17  
Status: New/Complete  
Archive: Yes  
Email: [Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com)  
Series/Sequel: Seventh in the Pressure series because it just won't stop.  
Website: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net>

Notes: Thanks to XFreak for proofing and being such a good friend. Any mistakes are my own. 

Disclaimer: Not mine. 

Summary: Despite Walter's support, Mulder still has serious problems dealing with his abuse. 

Warnings: If the subject matter of child abuse, suicide, and violence bothers you, don't read this story. 

* * *

**Pressure 7: Defenses**  
by Grey  
[Grey853@aol.com](mailto:Grey853@aol.com?subject=Defenses)

* * *

The wild fist to his chest woke him. Well, that along with Mulder's screaming. Ignoring the pain, Walter sat up fast enough to grab his lover and hold him, containing him to avoid injury, the mournful cries sending shudders through every muscle. The struggle only lasted a few moments before the body stilled and sagged, the eyes squeezed shut, the breathing ragged. 

"Oh, god." 

Rocking him slowly, he kissed his forehead as he held on and stroked his face. "It's okay. You're safe." 

"Safe?" 

"Safe." 

His eyes still closed, Mulder whispered, "I could hear her calling my name. She was crying again, and I couldn't stop it. God, it hurt." 

"What hurt?" 

"The tests. They wouldn't stop." 

"Who wouldn't?" 

"I don't know. Just hands. I don't see faces, but they're hurting her and I feel it pushing inside me. God, I hate this." He shivered as he spoke, the voice still raspy from yelling. 

"It was a nightmare. It's over." He hugged just a little harder before he repeated, "You're safe here." 

"There's no such thing. Nobody's safe. Not you, not me, nobody." 

He turned on the light as he kept his voice calm and even. "Mulder, open you eyes and look at me." 

Shaking his head, Mulder rolled on his side and snuggled in closer, his heavy morning whiskers rubbing his belly. "My head hurts." 

"I can imagine. That was your fourth nightmare in just one night." 

"Almost a record breaker." 

"I'm exhausted." 

"I'm sorry." 

"About what?" 

"About waking you up. Maybe I should go back to my place." 

"Shut up, Mulder." 

"Okay." After several long moments, Mulder finally opened his eyes and looked up. "Want some coffee?" 

"I'll make it." 

"No, you stay here. I owe you." 

"What are you talking about?" 

Sitting up, Mulder ran the back of his hand up his cheek. "You don't have to put up with all this, but you do. I appreciate that." 

"I love you. Besides, I knew about your problems before I ever let you seduce me." 

A quick smile lifted the shadow. "Seduce you? Yeah, I did sort of do that. Smooth move on my part." 

"Worked for me. Of course, it helped that I'd wanted you for ages." 

Walter leaned forward to kiss him, the lips only meeting for a moment before Mulder stood up, his face suddenly nervous. He grabbed his sweat pants and dressed, his words rushed. "I need to fix coffee. Go ahead and shower first if you want. I'm going for a run." 

"A run?" 

"Yeah. I'll shower when I get back." 

Glancing to the window, Walter frowned. "It's still dark out. Why don't you wait and go to the gym later? Use the track there. It's safer." 

"Don't worry. I carry a gun, remember?" He sat down on the edge of the bed as he pulled on his socks and running shoes. 

"I know, but you probably shouldn't." 

"What?" 

"If I had any sense, I'd take it away and put you back on medical leave." 

Instead of anger, Mulder stopped, his face dark and haggard. "But you won't. You'd have to explain too much." 

"You're still going to see Kossef today, right?" 

He finished tying his left shoe and stood up, his voice strained as he put on a hooded sweat shirt. "I told you I would." 

"You told me a lot of things. Then you had all those nightmares. I just think maybe you should take it easy. Don't push yourself so hard." 

"Push myself hard doing what? Running a few miles?" He rubbed his hands up and down his face several times before he finally spoke again. "Look, just stop, okay? I'll be fine. I'll run, take a shower, and then go to work. I'll see Kossef after I get an appointment." 

"Today. No excuses." 

"Yeah, some time today. I said that already." 

"Tell her it's important, and she'll make time." 

"Jesus." Mulder headed to the stairs before he suddenly stopped and turned. "I'm sorry. I know you're just worried." 

"You said you've been thinking about killing yourself. Of course, I'm worried." 

"I know. It's just you have to understand something." 

"What?" 

"I've thought about suicide off and on for most of my life, I just don't tell people. When things get bad, it's the way I control all the chaos. It's not as scary to me as it is to you." 

"Damn it, Mulder, it should be." 

"Maybe, but it's not. Just don't push. Please. I'll deal with this." 

"How you deal with it, that's what scares me." 

"I know. I'm sorry." 

"Just promise not to hurt yourself." 

"Okay." The word came out casual, but the force of affirmation carried it hard enough to make it believable. 

At least for the moment. 

* * *

"So, what do you think, Mulder?" Scully stood by his desk, her eyes scanning the Martin file. 

"I say let the police do their job and arrest the bastard." Mulder sat back in his desk chair, his teeth grinding, his right hand massaging his temple. 

"Then you don't think it's alien abduction despite all the hallmarks?" 

"He did his homework, but the son of a bitch killed his own daughter, Scully." He stood up, his whole body tense, wishing he could pound his fist into Martin's lying punk face. "This is just another example of family love in America. Father kills kid and then claims aliens took her so he can go on the fucking Jerry Springer show. I hope they fry his sorry ass." 

Scully stood very still as she spoke, the quiet tone catching his attention more than a shout would. "Calm down, Mulder." 

"I am calm." 

"In what world?" 

Meeting her blue eyes, the anger wavered. "I'm sorry. I'm not shouting at you." 

"I know that. I also know this case is a little close to home." 

"Not fucking likely." 

"Mulder..." 

"Just stop. I don't need to hear this." He stood up to leave only to find his partner's petite form blocking his path. Most days he would've smiled a the contrast between them, the irony of such a tiny commanding person controlling his movements with just a look, but not at the moment, not when all he wanted to do was go out and pound somebody into bloody pulp. His words came out tight and precise, controlled far more than his battling insides. "Get out of the way. I need to clear my head." 

"I want you to calm down first." 

"I am calm." 

"You're upset. You go out of here like this, you're liable to pick a fight with the first person you see just to have someone to hit in place of Martin." 

"I'm not going to do that." The determined face stared back at his, the set of the beautiful stubborn jaw familiar. The rage reared up again, but he pushed it back down and turned away. "I didn't mean to snap like that." 

"It's understandable. This isn't a pretty case. I thought the same thing when we first met Martin. He not only killed her, but the wife knows and is keeping quiet." 

"She's his wife." 

"And Amy was her daughter." 

"And what about Kevin?" 

"He probably knows what happened, but he's so traumatized, he won't be able to say anything." She put the file down and stepped closer. "Mulder, Kevin's probably being abused, too. We need to tell the officers on the case what we suspect and get him out of there." 

"What's the point?" 

"What's the point? What do you mean what's the point? If he's being abused, he needs intervention." 

"And then what? He's fucked, Scully. There's really not enough evidence that Martin's guilty. We both know that. Chances are, he's going to get off and even if dear old mom comes to her senses and takes him away from Martin, he'll still be his father, still see him whenever he wants. So, what's the point?" 

"The point is, we do what we can." 

"Yeah, right." He sagged back down in his chair, his head forward resting on his upraised palms. The words came out soft and low, shaky and testing the air. "God, I'm so tired of this shit. It's like why do people like that even have kids?" 

He jumped as Scully put her hand on his shoulder, the flash of fear tearing at him, sending him back to a time when such a touch came before pain, came when he couldn't get away. Crossing his arms around his middle, he kept his head down. "Please don't touch me right now, Scully." 

"I won't." After a few moments, she asked, "What's going on, Mulder?" 

"I don't know. I just felt like I was a kid again for a minute." 

"Not a good feeling, huh?" 

"No." When he finally opened his eyes, she kneeled beside him, waiting. "I didn't mean to scare you before, Scully." 

"You didn't. I get scared for you, Mulder, but never of you." 

"Not even when I point a gun at you?" 

"Not even then." She stood up and extended her hand. "Come on. Why don't we go have some lunch? My treat if you're willing to go to the Golden Dragon. Dutch if it's burgers." 

Just breathing steady as he uncurled himself took concentration, his energy drained and leaving behind the slow ache of spent anger. "Chinese sounds good, but I'll pay." 

Concern narrowed her eyes slightly, but she smiled and took his hand. "If you're good, I'll even let you read my fortune cookie." 

"Gee, Scully, I thought you didn't believe in that stuff." 

"I don't, but there's no harm in pretending." 

"Depends on what you're pretending." 

She took a deep breath and petted his hair with affection. "Are we still talking about sharing our cookies?" 

"Not really." He got up and handed over her coat while he picked up his own. 

"So, what exactly are we talking about?" 

"I don't have much faith in the future. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy it." 

Her eyes softened as she stared up at him, the blue close to smoke. "I wouldn't enjoy it without you, Mulder. I hope you at least know that much." 

"Yeah, I do. Or at least I try to." 

"You better. Now, let's go eat. I'm hungry." 

He wasn't, but he followed her out, her kind words and electric touches like a welcome tether to the living. 

* * *

Walter looked at the clock one more time as he wiped off the counter. After ten o'clock and still no Mulder to show for his worry. As he folded the towel, he heard the key and took one of the first full breaths of the evening. "Where have you been?" 

"I should've called. I just got distracted." He took off his coat and hung it up, his shoulders rounded in fatigue. "I had some things to think about." 

"I can imagine. I got a call from Martin's lawyer." 

"Son of a bitch killed his daughter." 

"I know. I think so, too, but you shouldn't have threatened him." 

Turning, his hazel eyes bloodshot, his face set in anger, he snapped, "I should've done more than that. If I were still working violent crimes, I'd have enough evidence to take his ass down. Those cops are going to let this go if someone doesn't keep the fire going." 

Walter folded his arms, his own temper held in check. "His lawyer says if you go near him again, he'll file a restraining order." 

"Fuck the order." 

"Mulder, I talked to Detective Sawyer." 

"So?" 

"So, he says you were out of line." 

"Sawyer doesn't know shit." Loosening his tie and collar, Mulder pushed past Walter to go to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer before sitting at the table, both hands holding the bottle, his arms shaking. "I just wanted the son of bitch to know that I knew what he'd done." 

"And did it make you feel better to do that, to risk Sawyer's case?" 

"What case? He keeps going on the way he is, Martin's going to walk." He took long swallow, rested for a second, and then took another. 

"It's not an X-file." 

"No, it's a damn shame." 

Walter watched Mulder finish the bottle and remained quiet until his lover got another. His low, husky voice vibrated the air between them. "What's your plan here, Mulder? You planning to get drunk, get mean, punch out the wall again?" 

"Might do all three." 

"Talk to me." 

"I thought that's what I was doing." 

"No, you're still pissed off about Martin." 

Mulder raised his right hand and covered his eyes for a moment, something he did to calm himself, to settle his own thoughts. "You're right. It just galls me that the guy's going to get away with this." 

"Not if Sawyer can help it." 

"Yeah, maybe." 

"Just stay away from it. It's not your case anymore." 

"I know." 

Sitting there, hand to chin, Walter spoke quietly. "So, where have you been, really?" 

"Just walking." 

"Just walking?" 

"Yeah. I had the first session with Dr. Kossef this evening at six. Afterwards, I just needed to walk for awhile." 

"How did that go?" 

Biting his lower lip, avoiding his eyes, he shook his head. "This is hard." 

"I know. Therapy's not my favorite thing either." 

"I'm not talking about the sessions. I'm talking about this." 

"This?" 

Mulder motioned at the two of them, his hand moving back and forth. "I'm talking about you wanting to know about it, expecting me to tell you what went on. I can't." 

Sitting back, the hurtful jab stunned him. "I don't understand." 

"If this is going to work, at least for now, I've got to do this my way, on my own. I can't handle giving you reports on this part of my life." 

It took a moment to sink in, the words like daggers nicking at his heart, each flick of tongue another portion gone. "I don't expect that." 

"Sure you do, and I'll probably tell you some of it, but that will have to be enough. A lot of it, I can barely handle on my own." 

"Then why would it be so awful to have someone to help you handle it?" 

"You don't understand. I need to be able to do it alone, at least for now." 

"But why?" 

He looked up, his face pale despite the late evening whiskers. "I just do." 

"All right, but I need to know you're okay." 

"I will be." He leaned back and stretched as he reached down into his pocket to pull out a folded sheet of paper. Handing it over, he whispered, "Read it." 

"What is it?" As he unfolded it, he saw his lover's square writing, the words Suicide Contract blocked out across the top. 

"It's a way of letting you know that I understand how worried you are. Kossef thought this might be one way to deal with that fear, both for me and for you." He reached over and pointed at his signature across the bottom. "She had me write out all the things I promise to do if I get in a crisis again and then I signed it." 

The stinging blurred his vision as he blinked several times to focus. He read down the pledge to call either Scully or himself, the list of hot-line crisis numbers, and the oath to try to survive. "Shit." 

"I thought you'd be glad." 

"I am. It's just that you're so matter of fact about all this." 

"Might as well be." He paused before he spoke again. "You okay?" 

"I'm just tired, I guess." 

"Yeah, me, too, but I'm a little wired. I was thinking of changing and going back out to play some pick up down at the gym. Want to come? There might be a couple of good boxers working out." 

"Not tonight. It's late." 

"Okay." He finished his second beer, grabbed another, and headed upstairs. "Don't wait up. I might go to the movies later." 

"Right." 

As Mulder headed upstairs, the nervous energy revving up, Walter shook his head and marveled at how hard his lover worked to just keep moving. Keep busy and he didn't have to think. Keep spinning and nothing ever settled until it flew out of control and to hell with the world around him, just one more handy weapon in his arsenal of defenses. 

* * *

The crash brought him up to full awareness within a matter of seconds, military training always on alert. He sat up quickly and grabbed his glasses. "Mulder?" 

"Shit. What happened to the bed?" 

It didn't take an AD to recognized a drunk when he heard one. He turned on the light and got up. Standing at the top of the stairs, hands on his hips, he looked down to see Mulder sitting on the bottom step holding his head in his hands. "What's wrong?" 

"Nothing. I just can't find the damn bed." 

"It's up here." 

"Since when?" 

"Since always." 

"Really?" 

"Really." 

"Stupid place to hide it. And who put these stairs here?" 

Walking down, he helped to half lift and carry him upstairs, his body mostly dead weight and stinking of stale sweat, cigarette smoke, and tequila. "What have you been up to, Mulder?" He didn't get an answer. Instead, Mulder's mouth nibbled at his ear as he walked him to the bed. 

"God, you're wet and freezing. Let's get these clothes off." 

"Oh, yeah, strip the boy naked. Let me help." Awkwardly he peeled off his jacket and shirt while he let Walter finish taking off his shoes and pants. Bouncing back against the mattress, the younger man's arms reached out and grabbed his hand. "Come on, Walter, fuck me. It's been forever." 

Walter froze at the words. "That's not a good idea." 

"Why not?" He tugged a little harder, his dazed eyes half closed as he pleaded. "I want you." 

"And I want you, too, but you're drunk and it's the middle of the night." 

"So?" 

"So, another time would be better." 

"Not for me it wouldn't. I told you before, I'm a slut when it comes to fucking." Mulder struggled to pull Walter closer while he used his other hand to fondle his own crotch. "Come on, do me. You know you want to. Everybody wants to fuck Mulder, right?" 

"Just stop it." He pushed him away and stepped back, fighting down his own urge to give in. The drama on the bed had nothing to do with him and had everything to do with his lover's exposed pain, deep wounds bleeding all over the world between them. 

Mulder lay there for a moment before he suddenly rolled off the bed and lurched for the bathroom, the retching sounds soon to follow. 

Shit. 

Stepping to the sink, he wet a wash cloth, got a cold glass of water, and kneeled beside him, the sour stench and heaving sounds pulling at his own gut. By the time the vomiting stopped, Mulder shook in his arms as he wiped his mouth. 

"Let me help you." 

He didn't answer, but didn't resist either as Walter led him back to bed and covered him up, the sweat pasting his hair to his skull. Crawling in beside him, he pulled him close and rested while the violent shivering wracked his lover's body. 

"It's okay, Mulder. You're going to be fine." He repeated it over and over, hoping that by the time they both fell asleep, he might even believe it himself. 

* * *

"Oh, god, where's Scully?" 

"Probably at work. Why?" 

"I need her to shoot me again. Right in the brain. One bullet should do it." 

Walter pulled on his jacket while he watched Mulder struggle to sit up, his face pasty and ill. "You look like shit, my friend." 

"Good observer." He put a hand to his head and groaned. "What the hell happened?" 

"What do you remember?" 

"I went to the gym." 

"And?" 

"And then The Pony." 

"The Pony? The gay club?" 

"Yeah." He didn't look up as he put his feet on the floor and pulled the white sheet up around his shoulders like a cape. Dark hair flattened to his head on one side and stuck out on the other. "I was just going to get a drink." 

"Well, you did that all right." 

"I'm sorry. I needed to see the scene again." 

"Check out the action?" 

"Yeah, maybe." 

He ground his jaw and checked his tie as he watched the worn expression grow even more pale, the eyes bruised in the low light of the room. "So, what was it like?" 

"Same as always. Ugly. Sort of like how I was feeling." 

"Ugly?" 

"Yeah, but it didn't matter. Plenty of men still wanted me, wanted to fuck me and for some reason that made me feel better." 

"Shit." 

Glancing up, his eyes met his, the twisted face painful to see. "I didn't do it, Walter. I mean, in the past I would've, but not now. Before you, it wouldn't have mattered and I could've fucked anyone and it wouldn't have mattered at all because fucking was just fucking." 

"So, what stopped you this time?" 

"I didn't want to hurt you. Some guy tried to make out, but I couldn't do it, not anymore. Tony got me a cab home and after that, it's kind of fuzzy." 

"Tony?" 

"The bartender. We used to fuck, too." 

"Jesus, Mulder." 

"I know. I'm sorry. Pretty disgusting." 

"Pretty sad." 

"I'm sorry." 

"Stop saying that. It's over." He went into the bathroom and returned with a glass of water and aspirin. "Here, take this. You need fluids." 

Mulder took the pills and downed them quickly, his eyes downcast and swollen. He put the empty glass on the bedside table and then hung his head again. "You've got every right to be pissed off." 

"I'm not pissed off. I'm upset, but I'm not angry." 

"What's the difference?" 

The mattress sagged as he sat beside him, his arm wrapping the bare shoulders and pulling him in. "The difference is that I love you and I hate seeing you do this kind of shit to yourself." 

"If I weren't living here, you wouldn't have to see it." 

"That's true, but I don't want you to leave, Mulder." 

"I don't want to leave either." 

"Then what needs to happen?" 

Swallowing hard, Mulder looked up, his eyes misted over. "I guess I should try to get my shit together." 

"I know you're trying." 

"I am, but nothing I used to do works anymore." 

"So, maybe trying something new might help." 

"Something new?" 

"Yeah, like letting people help you." 

"I am. I went to Kossef like you asked." 

"But you went because I asked and not because you wanted to." 

He didn't answer right away, but he stayed still, letting the heat between their bodies build. Finally Mulder spoke softly. "I get what you're saying. I understand it, but it's so hard to admit that I can't do this alone." 

"I know. It's hard to ask for help." 

"You don't understand." 

"Understand what?" 

"My family lived with secrets. I've never known anything else. It's the only reason I'm alive." 

"Some secrets blister us from the inside if we keep them too long, Mulder. They're killing you and I think you know that." 

"My father always told me how dangerous it was to tell." 

"I hate to say this, but your father was a bastard." 

"I know, but sometimes I feel so guilty." 

"About what?" 

"About hating him, about loving him, about not knowing what the hell I feel about him. You're supposed to love your father, but he did some terrible things. Despite that, the more I remember, the more I'm beginning to think he was as fucked up as I am, like being fucked up is part of the Mulder male tradition." 

Walter hugged him tighter and kissed the top of his head before he whispered, "Then it's time to change that tradition. It's too late for your father, but you can save yourself." 

"But I don't know if it's worth it." 

"Believe me, Mulder. It will be." 

* * *

Running late, six meetings in a row, all backed up over an hour, Walter slipped his coat on the rack and shook his head. "Sometimes I really hate this job." He proceeded to sort through the notes he'd made for the first planning committee when the phone rang. "AD Skinner." 

"Mr. Skinner, we have a problem." 

He recognized the voice and worry took a big bite into his belly. "Detective Sawyer. What kind of problem?" 

"I need to see your Agent Mulder." 

"Why?" 

"Thomas Martin's dead." 

Shit. The words chilled him, the possible spin of scenarios going through his head making him dizzy. "And what does this have to do with Agent Mulder?" 

"I told you yesterday about his bizarre behavior when he showed up out of nowhere to accuse Martin of killing his daughter. I think that's good enough reason to question him." 

"Is he a suspect?" 

"I just want to get some answers." 

"You're wasting your time." 

"Probably, but I'd to see him down at my office at one this afternoon." 

"I'll tell him." He paused for a moment before he asked, "How did Martin die?" 

"Somebody pretty pissed off bashed his head in." 

"With what?" 

"A baseball bat, looks like. We're not sure. We haven't found the weapon yet." 

"Have you ruled out the wife and son?" 

"No, but right now the wife's in the hospital." 

"Was she attacked, too?" 

"No, she's sedated. Understandably she was a little upset. First her daughter disappears and now this." 

"And the son?" 

"Martin was sitting down and was attacked from behind. The kid could've done it, but we're not sure." 

"I'd think forensics could tell pretty quickly. What does the boy say?" 

"Well, that's the problem. We can't find the boy, which brings us back to the subject at hand. The last time I saw your man Mulder, he was saying something to him. I want to know what that was. I also want to know exactly what he was up to at about three this morning." 

Walter closed his eyes, the image of his partner's drunken condition replaying in his head. "I'm sure he has an alibi." 

"Well, he can tell me what it is when I see him. Make sure he shows up. I don't want to have to get a warrant." 

"He'll be there and so will I." 

"Fine. Just make sure he's more controlled than he was yesterday. This thing's a powder keg. Alien abduction and murder with an FBI connection make for a headlines I'd just as soon avoid." 

"I understand completely. I don't want this thing in the papers any more than you do." 

"Good." 

Walter hung up as he sat down, his hand to his face. Mulder didn't need this, not on top of everything else. He snatched up the phone again and barked out the list of meetings and appointments to rearrange. Then he called his friend Fred Marlowe. "Fred? This is Walter. I need some legal advice." 

* * *

Standing at the doorway, Walter watched Mulder reading a file, his face drawn with concentration. "Anything interesting?" 

"Just more about this prick Martin. The more I read, the more I believe in forced sterilization." He put the paper down, took off his glasses, and then looked up with a small smile. "So, what brings you down to the caves, sir?" 

Stepping inside, he glanced around and shut the door. "Where's Scully?" 

"She's in the lab checking on some delayed forensic report. Why? What's wrong?" 

"Martin's dead." 

"Shit." Mulder scooted back from the desk, his hand to his mouth, his face suddenly pale. "What about Kevin?" 

"We don't know. He seems to have taken off." 

"Oh, god." He stood up, running his hands through his hair as he paced. "Do they think he did it?" 

"He's a suspect, but they also want to talk to you." 

"Me?" 

"Yeah. One o'clock at the station with Sawyer." 

"Oh, shit." He leaned back into the corner and stayed there, his hands wrapped around his middle, his head down and his eyes closed as he spoke. "I didn't do it." 

"I know that." 

"But Kevin did. I should've done something." 

"Like what?" 

"I don't know. Talked to him, tried to get him to tell the truth about what happened." 

"Mulder, Sawyer said you did talk to him." 

"I did, but it wasn't about his father." 

"Then about what?" 

"I told him I understood what it was like to lose a sister." 

Walter stepped closer, but didn't touch him, didn't want to invade the private personal space he held around himself. "What else?" 

"We have to find him. He's in the woods at his grandmother's. He's all alone. There's a tree house where he used to go with Amy." Without warning, he pushed past him and grabbed his coat. "Come on, we've got to find him before it's too late." 

"Wait. What are you talking about?" 

"Kevin's going to hurt himself. I know it." 

"Mulder, we need to call the police." 

"There's no time." He stopped, his eyes begging. "Please, help me find him. You can call whomever you have to on the way. We need to find out where his grandmother lives outside the city." 

"He's just a kid. How would he get there?" 

"Any way he had to. Now, let's go." 

* * *

"It's not your fault, Mulder. You did everything you could." 

"The assistant director is right, Agent Mulder. We would never have found him if it hadn't been for you." Detective Sawyer leaned forward, his hands held together on the table as he talked, his face worried. 

"Doesn't matter what I did. He's still dead." He sat there rigid, the emotions buried deep, his voice neutral. "His father should've been the one hanging from that tree limb, not Kevin." 

Walter took a deep breath, trying to contain his own emotions, the vision of the boy's limp body swinging while Mulder fell to his knees devastated still too vivid. He cleared his throat and spoke to Sawyer. "Are we finished here, Detective?" 

"Yes, sir. With Kevin's letter and the recovery of the murder weapon, we're pretty sure we know what happened." 

"Do you?" Mulder's head came up, his voice low and suddenly challenging. "So you think you know what the fuck happened in that house? Do you?" 

"Settle down, Mulder." 

He whipped his head in Walter's direction, his eyes still bloodshot, but clear. "Don't tell me to settle down, not now. We fucked up. A little boy and his sister are dead because we all fucked up. Nobody bothered to protect them, to step in. The mother knew what he was doing and so did the grandmother. Where the hell were the teachers and the other adults when he was beating the shit out of his kids? Where were they when he was fucking them every night until they were screaming?" 

Before he could answer, Sawyer spoke, his voice a strong and steady bass, his tone more for a victim than a fellow officer. "You're upset, Agent Mulder. This case was really hard on you. I think we can all see that." 

Anger gone, his head dropped to his hands as he fought back the choked words. "I couldn't save him." 

Walter stood up and stepped over, putting his hand on Mulder's shoulder. "Could you give us a minute, Detective?" 

"Sure." As he started to leave, he hesitated. "Look, I'm sorry it turned out this way." 

"I know." 

He motioned with his head at Mulder and whispered, "Maybe he shouldn't be working right now." 

Mulder raised his head, his face flushed, but no longer contorted. "Don't talk about me like I'm not fucking here, Detective." 

"I'm sorry." 

He took a deep breath and shrugged off Walter's hand. "Yeah, well, do me a favor. Just because Martin's dead, don't close this investigation. Make sure that it's clear that his daughter wasn't abducted, but murdered by her own father." 

"How can you be so sure he did it?" 

"Because Kevin was sure." 

"He told you?" 

"Not in words, but in actions, yeah. He killed his father for killing his sister and then hanged himself because he couldn't save her. Trust me. That's how it happened." 

"I need more proof than just your feelings." 

Mulder snorted as he stood up, his body stiff and controlled again. He picked up his coat from the corner chair as he spoke. "Press the grandmother. She'll confess now." 

"Not the mother?" 

"No. She'll still protect the husband." 

"But why?" 

"You're new at this, right?" 

"What's that got to do with anything?" 

"She's let this man abuse her children. If she tells the truth, then she's part of it." 

"But she's part of it anyway." 

"Not if she keeps pretending." 

Mulder headed out the door, Walter stepping in behind him only to have Sawyer hold his arm for an extra moment. "You know he needs help, right?" 

"Just take care of your own problems, Detective. I'll worry about Agent Mulder." 

"I don't envy you, sir." 

He noted the genuine concern and nodded as he turned and followed Mulder to the car. Once there, he shook his head. "No way you're driving. Get in on the other side and give me the keys." 

"I can drive." 

"Not right now you can't. That's an order." 

Surrendering, but still hostile, Mulder got out of the car and pitched the keys at his chest. "Can we just get the fuck out of here?" 

"If you can keep from exploding, yeah." 

Mulder lowered his head against the car for just a moment before moving to get in the passenger seat. He remained quiet while Walter got in beside him and started the engine. After a few minutes of driving, he glanced over to find Mulder staring out the window, a tear trailing down his cheek, his cries silent. 

He kept his hands on the wheel and his own eyes focused by sheer willpower, the desire to stop and hold his lover almost winning, but not quite. Mulder needed time, needed his own healing, and until then he'd just keep driving until they were home and in private, resenting the fact that comforting the man he loved included having to hide it. 

* * *

Mulder stood at the window of the balcony, beer in hand, his eyes focused out towards the darkness. From the sofa Walter asked, "You haven't said anything since we got home." 

"Nothing much to say." 

"Scully called." 

"Yeah?" 

"She wanted to know if you were okay." 

"What'd you say?" 

"I said I didn't know for sure." 

"Good answer." 

Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, Walter wiped his forehead and pushed back his glasses. He took a deep breath before he spoke, this time his words more settled. "You should get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning." 

"I doubt it. Kevin will still be dead." 

"And Samantha will still be missing." 

"Don't." 

The word ground to his ear, the undercurrent of caution there. He ignored it. "You can stand there all night, all week, as long as you want and it doesn't change anything. Beating yourself up over it doesn't help. Kevin was dead long before we got there." 

He didn't answer right away, the beer in his hand shaking. Finally he whispered, "I just keep thinking about how it must have been right before he slipped the rope around his neck. How it must have felt to tighten it, to feel the rough edges cut off his air right as he jumped, to know that the pain would stop soon." He lifted his hand to his neck, rubbing the skin, his fingers spread. "I tried hanging myself once." 

Air ran wild and hid from his lungs. "What?" 

"Yeah. There was a tree on a cliff overlooking the ocean where we used to play in the summer. It was about two months after Samantha's disappearance. It was winter and there was a storm coming up, but I didn't care. I was alone and looking out and just sitting on the limb running the rope through my fingers. It felt good to know that I could do it any time and nobody could stop me." 

Walter sat back, his arms spread out on the back of the sofa, his hands kneading the fabric to contain his own fear. "So, what did stop you?" 

"The limb broke." He rested his head back against the wall as he spoke, his words just sort of drifting and circling the memory. "It cut off my wind for just a second before the jerk and then I heard this loud crack of wood breaking. I hit the sand and knocked myself out. It was dark before I woke up just as the surf came in. It was so peaceful and Samantha was there talking to me, telling me I had to get up." 

"You were dreaming?" 

"I guess, but it seemed so real. She was crying and saying I couldn't do that anymore or there'd be nobody to find her." He raised his left hand to his face, his eyes still closed. "It was so real when she touched me." He opened his eyes and stared at him. "Do you think Kevin got to see Amy before he died?" 

"I don't know." 

"I'd like to think so." 

"Would you do me a favor?" 

"What?" 

"Come sit down for a minute and let me hold you." 

"I'm okay." 

"It's not just for you. Did it ever occur to you that I might need a hug, too? You weren't the only one cutting down a boy's body today." 

Mulder put the beer bottle on the desk and walked over to slump down beside him, his body turned to be wrapped up in strong arms. Guiding his head to his lap, Walter petted his hair while he pulled his legs up and settled on his side. The heat melted the chill enough to loosen his tongue further. "Finish the story, Mulder." 

"What's to finish? I'm still alive." 

"What happened when you got home?" 

"My father had been out looking for me and told me I was a selfish bastard. That I didn't give a shit about my mom who was worried sick because they couldn't find me." 

"Did he hit you?" 

"He didn't break any bones, but yeah, he slapped me. He was upset. I shouldn't have made them worry like that. My mom was crying." 

"You're doing it again." 

"What?" 

"Making excuses for him. Making it sound like hitting you was your fault when it wasn't." 

"I don't mean to. It just makes it easier to handle that way." 

"Why?" 

"Because it makes it easier to believe he loved me." 

He squeezed Mulder's hand as he fought back the sting blurring his eyesight, grateful William Mulder was already buried and he didn't need to do it again. 

"Walter?" 

"Yeah?" 

A strong hand wrapped the back of his neck and pulled him forward, Mulder's lips busy to meet his. A tongue pushed in and the man in his arms twisted and reared up to get a better leverage and position. Before he could stop him, Mulder straddled his lap and rocked his groin against his. Hands held his head steady as the younger man ravaged his mouth, sucking and probing with the same rhythm controlling his body. 

"God, Mulder." 

"I love you." The breathy pledge came as Mulder reached between them to unzip, his aim perfect. "I need you. I need you to show me you love me, too." 

"I do love you." 

"Then prove it." He dived in again, this time his tongue lapping at his neck, his teeth nipping along his jaw and ear. Mulder never stopped moving, his erection hard and wet, the veins extended. Fever swarmed his brain as Walter tried to slow down, but couldn't. His lover wouldn't stop working, ripping his clothes out of the way, pounding against him, his hand now wrapping and stroking while he devoured his air, lapped away all resistance. 

Bucking back several times, Walter shifted and put Mulder on his back, both men holding the other, thrusting their cocks in the same urgent time, the same grinding while mouths crashed and burned against the other. The savage buzz claimed him as he returned each touch, growled his own hunger as Mulder cried out and came beneath him. His own release didn't make a sound, silence blasting instead into bright white behind a sea of swirling blue, of hazel melting into green and gold flaring into nothing but flaming red spikes that shred every muscle. Bones sizzled to powder as he collapsed down, his body too weary to stay suspended. 

Lying there, their breathing took a long time to slow while sweat slicked with passion cooled between their skin. With a quick kiss, the beard tickled his tongue as he realized Mulder shuddered in his arms. "What is it?" 

"You love me." 

"I've been telling you that." 

"I know. I just didn't really believe it." 

Still lying on top, pressing his weight down, Walter ran the back of his hand up Mulder's face. "Believe it." 

"I'm trying." 

"I know." He kissed his mouth again, the taste beer-rich and salty before he whispered, "Let's go to bed." 

"It's a little late for that." 

"To sleep." 

Mulder closed his eyes, his face relaxed but still full of sadness. "I'm afraid of sleeping." 

"Nothing to be afraid of. I'll be right beside you." 

"Promise." 

"Try to stop me." 

Mulder ran his hand up across his lips and then over the top of his head, the long, thick fingers rich and musky. "You're a brave man, Walter Skinner. You know this isn't going to be easy. I've still got some issues to deal with." 

"The only thing that scares me is the idea of losing you. Nothing else matters to me." 

"Stubborn bastard." 

"Is that a problem?" 

Smiling, Mulder shook his head. "Actually it's about the only problem I don't have." 

"So, let's get that crazy ass of yours up to bed then." 

But before he could get up, one more stolen kiss sealed their time together, their private time with no past or future, a token of love just for the moment of absolute truth between them. 

* * *

The End


End file.
